Blood Red
by ubyrai
Summary: Swirling pools of dark crimson that felt as though they were piercing through her soul. Some might have explained it as looking into the eyes of the devil, the eyes of death. But not her.   AU. Rating will most likely change.
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own Soul Eater.**

She adjusted her bag, sliding it over her opposite shoulder, becoming alert as the sound of the subway train could be heard from down the dark tunnel.

Maka hated the trips to and from Uni. It was peak time on a weekday morning and the amount of people on the platform was suffocating.

The train arrived two minutes late, the impatient of the business people complaining as the carriages grounded to a halt, letting the early rises on, Maka being –unfortunately- one of them.

She didn't even bother finding a seat, the train being so packed full. Maka grabbed one of the handles hanging from the roof, people in the carriage swaying as the train started off down the tunnel.

She wanted to get her book out, the train ride being 20 minutes long and with nothing to do. But she thought better of it, every time the train stopped and started she practically fell over. She had to focus on just staying upright.

Moving to the side, she let more people onto the already packed carriage, grumbling as her personal space was invaded. She made a move to grab the handle tighter, but before she could get grip again, the train jerked forward causing her to squeak and fall backwards and into the torso of the person standing innocently behind her.

"Ouuf."

The stranger from behind held her up under the arms to stop her falling to the ground. Blush spreading all the way to her ears; she lifted herself up out of the arms, turning around to apologize profusely to the person who had caught her.

She didn't mean to stare, but her words were just not coming out like they should have been.

Behind her stood a man, about a head taller than herself, clothed in a black hoddie, which was pulled up and over his hair. Around his neck was a pair of overly large headphones that had unintentionally slipped off his ears at some stage. The guy had a fringe of white hair protruding from under the hood, his eye brows pinched together in what seemed to be worry, or confusion.

But what had made her speechless was not the fact that his hair was a pure white, (whether it was natural or not, Maka did not know.) or that he seemed to be waiting on her for a reply, it was the colour of this man's eyes that took the words from her mouth.

Blood red.

Swirling pools of dark crimson that felt as if they were piercing through her soul. Some might have explained it as looking into the eyes of the devil, the eyes of death if you like. But not her. His eyes were captivating, locking her in a nonverbal staring competition that she couldn't seem to break from.

"Are…you ok?"

The sound of his low voice finally broke Maka from the mesmerised gaze she found herself in. She stuttered, nodding.

"A-ah yes. Thank you."

Slipping the headphones over his head again, he looked out the train window. Averting his sombre eyes away from her obvious attention.

"No problem."

The rest of the train ride was thankfully uneventful. Making sure she held onto the handle tight enough that she could no longer feel her hands.

But the insecure feeling that she was being watched stayed, even as she stepped onto the familiar concrete platform that was her stop.

* * *

><p>She was going to hit someone.<p>

Maka sat up the back of the reasonably large lecture theatre, crushing her innocent ballpoint pen so tight that she wouldn't be surprised if it snapped. The light above her flickered on and off, distracting her from taking notes. Could they not change the freaking light bulb? It's not as if finances were an issue here, the university being the only private one for at least 500 kilometres.

Maka closed her eyes, breathing deeply before opening them again, trying to get a focus on her notes for this bland lesson.

Coming from a working class family, she didn't quite fit in here. Only maintaining to keep one friend, an exchange student from Japan. Tsubaki, who wasn't taking this class anyway. So Maka sat up the back, minding her own business, trying to take notes as dutifully as possible with the blinking light situated right above her head. She was a scholarship student, being offered a place at the university three years ago, a second year, studying humanities in hope to be who knows what, she didn't have a clue. But being only 21, Maka reminded herself that she had time to decide.

Her cursive shorthand littered now full page, she turned for a new sheet, sighing when she found none left. Maka flipped through her folder in search of possible blank pages, stopping suddenly when she came across a page that had been written all in red pen.

Red like his eyes.

Though his colour was much more endearing.

Maka grumbled and massaged her head. She shouldn't be lusting after someone whom she had met only once. And by accident for that matter.

Although he _was_ good looking.

Maka hit herself lightly before flopping onto the desk, abandoning her notes.

She was way to distracted to concentrate anymore.

* * *

><p>"Should we go out for lunch? Or just buy something from the canteen?" Maka asked, readjusting her bag to sit more comfortably on her small shoulder.<p>

"I don't have another lecture today, and you don't have one till this afternoon right?" The attractive girl in front of her spoke, fixing the band of her hair tie. "Let's go out."

They ended up at a small café on the corner two blocks away, ordering coffee and two relatively cheap toasted sandwiches, all that they could afford, being broke university students.

"Ok, tell me what you think." The girl, Tsubaki announced, slipping an A4 sheet of cartridge paper from her bag. "And please don't be biased Maka."

The blond smiled, already knowing that whatever her friend was about to show her would be good. Tsubaki studied arts and design.

"I'm never biased as it is!"

"You are so." Tsubaki pouted, but handed the artwork to Maka anyway.

A black raven sat upon a rose stalk, narrowly avoiding the thorns that protruded from it.

Too bad the rose was a deep red. Maka might have been able to keep her mind clear of 'train guy' if it were any other colour.

"So…what do you think?" The artist fidgeted in her seat.

"I really love the colour of the rose." Maka said without thinking.

It was so painfully true.

* * *

><p>She was somewhat apprehensive to catch the train that evening. Wanting, but also not wanting to see <em>him <em>again.

At least there were spare seats this time around. She sat in the back corner of the carriage, taking out her book before inconspicuously scanning the rest of the seats for that piercing red she had been thinking about way too much today.

Her heart lurched when her eyes made purchase with what she was looking for. Sitting at the furthest end of the carriage was the man that wore the same black hoodie and headphones as this morning. The one with the eyes she could not seem to forget.

He was staring straight at her.

**I forgot how much i love writing~ When i sat down to finish this chapter i was... i dunno, excited if you will. Finally thought of something that i actually WANT to write. **

**I'll give you more details about length and stuff in the next chapter. But for now, i want to know if you guys think i should continue.**

**Thanks for reading~**


	2. Chapter 2

The intensity of his gaze was not as strong as this morning's affair. Perhaps it was because they were situated further apart than they had been when she first saw him. Nevertheless, she couldn't help but look at him for slightly long enough to be called rude.

"The next stop will be West Gate. West Gate, next stop."

The crackling of the PA system made her jump, snapping her gaze away from the crimson eyes, she blushed and pretended to read as if she hadn't just been staring at him like an obsessed child.

Her eyes skimmed the line that she had already read five times over. Maka wasn't focusing, the constricting feeling of being watched tightened in her stomach again.

Throwing the book aside with a huff, Maka gave up on reading, too uncomfortable to take in anything that the author was trying to get across. She instead crossed her arms over her chest and leant against the window, focused on not allowing her traitorous gaze drift in the way of a certain red-eyed man.

How did that saying go? Eyes are the mirror of the soul, or something? She skimmed through what the colour red symbolised. Anger, hatred, annoyance, violence, blood. Maka's eyebrows pinched together. Frowning, she watched the abundance of concrete buildings fly past in blurs. Not wanting to associate his 'soul' with such horrible examples she tried again, thinking differently. Red was a sign of heat, of passion, of _love_.

Feeling safe to do so, she looked up to find him mimicking her pose on the opposite side of the carriage. Arms crossed over chest, looking out the window, reflection from the hints of light that shined through, lighting up sections of his face and eyes.

She found herself unable to look away again.

But unlike the recent two times, Maka looked not at his eyes, but his whole being. Clothed in a jumper and dark jeans, he looked morose, slouched against the cold metal of the train. She wished she was closer, to read his expressions, his body language. She wanted to know if that saying applied to the man with almost frightening eyes. Whether they really did mirror his soul.

She wanted to know more.

After looking back out the window for who knows how long, the blonde didn't notice the sun set until she was shaken into reality by her phone going off. Jumping, she frantically searched her bag, feeling embarrassed at the stares she was receiving. She sighed in relief when her hand made purchase with the device she was looking for. But just as Maka was about to answer the annoying tune stopped.

She grumped, reading the screen. _'One missed call from, '_Papa_'.'_ Not bothering to call back she threw the mobile back into her bag and slouched down into the chair again, purposely looking out into the night and not at a the black hooded male she wished to stare at like a child who didn't know better.

"Next stop will be West Suburb 5. West Suburb 5 next stop."

Running a hand through her chest length hair Maka stood up, slung her bag over her shoulder and brushed down her skirt, in preparation to depart from the train.

As the carriage slowed Maka waited near the doors, holding onto the handle so she wouldn't fall once the train halted. Not sure whether it would be the bringer good or bad consequences, Maka braved a look to the right, where he was sitting, and found him-to no surprise- looking at her again. The train slowed to a stop, the doors opening to let her out.

Before she stepped off Maka smiled at him, not exactly wanting to leave into the cold, as she had to walk home from the station.

Just as she was about to look away, the sides of his mouth picked up in a half-hearted smile. Though it didn't reach his eyes, Maka's heart jumped around in her chest anyway.

She walked home with a ridiculously happy grin on her face.

* * *

><p>Not even thinking twice about it, Maka balanced the two dinner plates on one arm, holding the drinks with the other hand. It was getting to the stage where working was more of a balancing act than waitressing.<p>

"The two Caesar Salads and Diet Cokes?" Maka asked standing in front of a small table in the back corner of the café she worked at.

"Thank you." The two girls nodded, as Maka placed their meals down on the table, not quite as gently as anticipated.

"Enjoy your meal."

Leaning against the bench, behind the counter, Maka looked up at the clock for what felt like the 10th time in 5 minutes.

It wasn't like she despised her job. In fact, she was extremely grateful to have obtained the position. Maka needed the money if she wanted to stay living in her apartment. Though the Uni payed for her tuition, it didn't cover her living arrangements. Maka refused to let her father pay anything but the electricity, gas and water bills leaving her with the rent and groceries.

Her work was good. Getting enough money to eat and pay the said invoice with only two weekdays and a weekend shift. Just the right amount of hours to allow Maka to focus primarily on her studies. There were also the people she worked with. Kid, the boy she spent the most of her shift conversing with, him also being a waiter. Marie, Maka's ridiculously nice supervisor, and the cooks out the back whom she only spoke to if she was fixing up orders and such.

All were very easy to get along with.

"Maka hon, how 'bout you knock off early?" Marie approached her, drying a plate. "It's Saturday and you've only got 20 minutes left anyway." She smiled warmly.

Maka stood up straight. "Are you sure?"

"Yep go, it's not like we're busy" She scowled at the basically empty dining area, watching Kid sweep the floor diligently before practically taking Maka's apron off for herself.

"Thank you, Marie." The dirty blonde smiled, finishing untying the bow that her supervisor had started on. Maka was pleased, getting off early (even if it _was _only 20 minutes) meant that she had time to go food shopping before it got too late out. Slipping the apron over her head she placed it on the bench to be washed for her shift next week, but as she went to take her hand away she knocked a coffee cup over. The employee watched in horror, visibly cringing as the sharp sound of china smashing echoed around the café earning the few people who were seated to glance her way. A few of the cooks even peering around the corner to see who and what had caused the sudden vile sound.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" Maka found herself pulling her hands away from her mouth, not remembering placing them there in the first place. She frowned, bending down to pick up the bigger bits of china from the floor before she could sweep. "I should have been more careful. Sorry! I'll clean it up!" Maka was ranting apologies as Marie bent down to help also.

"It's fine, it's fine!" The older woman dragged the portable bin closer. "Don't worry Maka, as long as you're not hurt." She helped to pick up the larger pieces also.

"Please take some money out of my pay Marie." Maka hung her head, listening to the rustle of the plastic bag as she dropped the pieces in the bin, sighing. "I'm so car- ah!" She interrupted herself with a painful gasp, dropping the piece of china back to the floor as her hand erupted in sudden pain. Holding her throbbing palm with her other hand, Maka watched as blood proceeded to seep through the new sliced cut.

"Ah! Are you ok?" Marie asked, in what seemed to be serious concern.

Maka frowned, standing up. "I'm fine. Cut myself accidently."

She would have taken her eyes away from her bleeding cut to _prove_ to the overly caring woman that she was ok, but Maka couldn't bring herself to do so. The blood that was now, slowly, dripping down her wrist distracting.

Well the colour of the blood, not so much the liquid itself.

Red. Such a dark _crimson_. So startlingly similar to _his _eyes.

She had the morbid desire to let the blood collect in mass, to see if it would swirl around as breathtakingly beautiful as his eyes did. To see if the accumulation of vermillion would make her loose all sense of time and location like staring into his iris's did.

She doubted it.

"-aka?" The yellow-blonde haired woman stood in front of her, face full of worry when her employee didn't answer straight away. Maka snapped out of it.

"Sorry! What where you saying?"

"I asked if it was okay for Kid to help you with a bandage. I'll clean this up." Marie nodded towards the broken cup still in pieces on the floor, a small section of red staining the biggest fragment. Maka noticed the dark haired boy was already standing next to her, not even looking half the concerned as their boss did.

Maka nodded in agreement, following the boy –who had already began to walk to the crew room- before turning around quickly, still feeling extremely guilty. "Sorry again!" Maka ran out of the room before Marie could answer.

* * *

><p>It was raining by the time she walked out of work, the bell chiming, signifying her exit as she shut the door carefully, being overly cautious of her now bandaged hand.<p>

Maka checked her phone for the time, frowning when she realised it was already 6 o'clock, hopes of picking up groceries now impossible. It was too late to be out, sky already darkening as the sun disappeared behind the trees. She placed her phone back into her pocket before sliding her hood over her head, in an attempt to keep relatively dry as she proceeded to walk home.

Choosing –probably not wisely- to walk through the park before it got too dark, Maka turned down the closest street, the route that would take her through the gardens instead of the boring residential roads more appealing.

Maka smiled, enjoying the smell of the rain as she walked, resisting the urge to skip joyfully. No 21-year-old skipped through the park like a child who had just been promised ice cream. No matter how contented she was at that moment. She settled on smiling madly instead. It was funny how little things such as walking through the park in the rain made her so ridiculously happy. She should really grow up a bit. It wasn't her fault that her father had gotten her into the habit of wearing pig-tails 4 days of the week. It was more comfortable that way mind you. That's just how she rolled. Comfort over style.

Although her authentic smile was wiped clean off when her eyes made purchase with the almost frightening familiar black hoodie, strands of white peaking out from underneath. The rain making his hair stick to his face as he sat quite literally motionless on the park bench. He was looking straight upwards, the rain obviously not bothering him, though it must have been falling in his eyes. The eyes she seemed to have fallen in freaking _love_ with.

She didn't know what to do.

**A/N:** Really liking the new login area set up. It's so much more organised then before.~

Ok... I said i was going to give you information about Blood Red in this chapter, so that's what i'm going to do now.

It's based in America as Soul Eater is, but because i'm definitely not familiar with the US's collage system, Maka and Tsubaki go to university. It's just easier for me to write being from Australia. Maka is 21 and Soul is 22. Tsubaki a little older than both of them... probably 23.

I'm not sure how many chapters it'll have. Hopefully longer than 'Mixed Emotions' was. I'm just going to upload whenever. But hopefully once a week at least. I would have uploaded chapter 2 sooner, but i had exams all last week.

Thank you for all the reviews!


	3. Authors Noteapology

**A/N: **

Hey guys. Thank you so much for everyone that supported this story, but i'm putting it on an indefinite hiatus.

As much as I try, i'm just not motivated to write for Soul Eater at the moment.

I'm sorry!

Before I get bashed i'll have you know that i'll probably post small SE fics every now and then. So don't hate me! I love you all!

I'm writing for the Durarara Kink meme these days, so i will be positing a new fic up here soon.

...but if you don't like Shizaya then you're not going to like me very much at all. Feel free to delete me off your Author Alerts. : (

One last thing.

_Thank you to everyone who supported me when I was in my Soul Eater obsession phase. You all contributed in making me love it ten times more than any normal person should. It really does mean a lot._

And I hope that you might like my writing enough to stick with me even though i've moved on.

So thank you, and goodbye for now.

: )


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